


#1 Let's Hang Out Sometime

by TemporaryDysphoria



Series: TD's Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Lupin III
Genre: Blood, Death, Other, Prompt Fill, Violence, Waking up Restrained, Whump, Whumptober 2020, look its whump what more do you want from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26746390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemporaryDysphoria/pseuds/TemporaryDysphoria
Summary: "One for sorrow, two for joy,Three for a girl,Four for a boy."Prompt Fill Whumptober 2020: Day 1 - #Waking up restrained
Series: TD's Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947205
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	#1 Let's Hang Out Sometime

Goemon has failed, for the last time. The bindings around his wrists are tight like iron, and they leave imprints of his mistakes in his flesh. 

He was careless, and let his all too human desire for companionship cloud his normally sharp senses. When his back was turned, he left himself open for betrayal – a blade between the ribs. A blade not even hidden. A blade held by a man he considered a colleague, a friend, a lover…

How far the mighty fall – and oh, how hard the ground is, when it rises up to meet them.

And how disarmingly empty the devil looks when he smiles. A caricature of glee, the muscles curving in all the right places but nothing reaches his eyes. 

When he laughs, it no longer sounds incandescent. It’s harsh, grating, like the barking sounds of the crows that wing around him (watching, always watching – and yet Goemon never noticed before this). Lithe legs carry him around the room, around Goemon, Jigen and Fujiko. He hums, an eerie dirge. A melody like a nursery rhyme, but half a tone off-key. 

He spins a revolver in his hand idly. Loose bullets make a ‘click, click, click’ as he throws them in the air and catches them again. He starts to hum, and it sounds like despair. 

“One for sorry, two for joy-“

He holds up two bullets between his fingers. A sleight of hand Goemon has seen Jigen perform countless times. They slide into the chamber of the revolver with a metallic sound. 

Clink, clink, clink, clink.

Like the ticking of a clock, announcing the end. 

The devil smiles and lifts a lock of Fujiko’s hair away from her face. She doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound. None of them have. Goemon is frozen in place, unable to move a muscle. Jigen is bound and gagged, the fabric stretching across his eyes barely visible under the brim of his hat. He’s unable to move, unable to see. He only has his ears to tell him what’s going on around him. 

It’s probably for the best. 

Fujiko is bound. She has her eyes, but they’re closed. The gag is gone now – she doesn’t need it anymore because she no longer has a tongue. 

The devil holds the revolver up to Fujiko’s temple. He cocks his head, looking for a reaction. There is none. 

“Three for a girl –“

The gun discharges and Goemon’s peripheral vision fills with blood. 

“Four for a boy –“

Another gunshot, and a tattered Borsalino falls at Goemon’s feet. 

The devil bends over, and rummages through the pockets of the bodies on the floor. He comes up with a necklace, a pocket watch, humming all the while. 

“Five for silver, six for gold –“

He walks towards Goemon now, the gritty smell of iron clinging to him. He holds a bloody finger against Goemon’s lips. 

“Seven for a secret to never be told.”

He leans in close and replaces the finger with lips – a vicious mockery of intimacy. 

“Eights a kiss.” He whispers, smearing blood into Goemon’s mouth. 

“Nines a wish.”

The barrel of Jigen’s revolver is cold against Goemon’s temple. A tear tracks down the devils’ face and for a moment – a single moment, he looks like Lupin again. Until he speaks. 

“Ten – is for a samurai, I should never miss.”

The trigger clicks.

* * *

Goemon wakes with a start. He’s sweating from head to toe. He sucks in air with a gasp, tries to move his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. He can’t move. 

His wrists sting as sweat hits the chafed skin. He’s been tied up for days now. 

Dress shoes make a distinctive noise against wood. There is someone walking down the hallway. The door opens with a low creak and a thin beam of light shines through. 

The person outside the door starts to hum. Softly at first, then louder, and louder until –

“One for sorrow,

Two for joy, 

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret to never be told.

Eight for a kiss

Nine for a wish –“

He walks in, this devil wearing Lupin’s face, with his smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Ten for a samurai, that I won’t miss.”


End file.
